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After visiting our dying mother in hospital, our family went for dinner at a restaurant. A few minutes after sitting down, we heard a loud cry from the next table. A mother was trying to convince her teenage son that it was time to leave, but he wouldn’t go. Other diners were concerned and irritated. An older man went to their table and told them to keep quiet. The mother said her son was autistic, and asked for understanding. If a mother knows her kid might act out, does she have the right to bring him to a public place, where his actions might disrupt others?

Your position seems to be that kids who can be disruptive should be kept at home, or in sheltered workshops and schools, where they won’t disturb “normal” people like you. “Lady, if you can’t control your kid, keep him out of sight.”

What a precious little world you must inhabit — a world where every child behaves delightfully 24 hours a day, where social skills are equitably distributed among the population, where your own troubles trump everyone else’s. In such a world, kids who are less socially adept, or less intellectually gifted, or physically “unattractive,” would never cross your path; they’d be tucked away nicely in their little, soundproof rooms, attended by doting parents who never get out for the evening but don’t mind a bit — they’re just so gosh-darned devoted and all. Meanwhile, you and your buddies have quiet dinners with fine wine and a tinkling piano, cutting a cheque once a year to the Autism Society to help those “poor people” you’ve read about in the Star.

How do you think kids on the autism spectrum, or kids who for any reason are socially less graceful than others, learn to function in society if they aren’t allowed to go to restaurants, churches, the symphony, or other places where they might “disrupt” other people? How do you think parents raising such kids will keep their sanity if they can’t go out for dinner occasionally? I hope you don’t think respite or attendant care services will provide relief for such occasions — not in this province, not in this country.

Our goddaughter is as socially adept as any kid alive. But when she was 3 months old, we went to a restaurant where we’d gone before with her. She normally slept through dinner, but for whatever reason, this particular night she was rotten. She cried through appetizers, and wailed through main course; we bolted before dessert. We tried everything, but nothing would comfort her. At a table close by, the diners glared at us, then made a big fuss with the server, then got up and left in a huff. We felt terrible (just as the mom in your story obviously did), and apologized to the server when he brought the bill.

He said, “Hey, forget about it. We’re all better off without people like them around.” Amen.

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